


Poison

by Rago_Dragovian



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:54:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29108148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rago_Dragovian/pseuds/Rago_Dragovian
Summary: Duncan should never have conscripted him. He was a vile seed that was just waiting for the chance to grow and spread his spores of ruin upon all. Two-shot story. Male Tabris Route.
Relationships: Anora Mac Tir/Male Tabris, Morrigan & Male Tabris (Dragon Age), Morrigan/Male Tabris (Dragon Age), Shianni & Tabris (Dragon Age)
Kudos: 1





	1. The Sowing of Poison

Conscripted.

He never had a choice, did he? No matter what he did, no matter what he tried to do…

"I own you now." spoke Duncan, giving him a scowl of superiority. The bastard showed his true colors like the rest of the fucking humans. Samael swore to himself, right at that moment, that no matter what the cost… he would gain his own freedom some day and make his enemies, all his enemies, including the man before him, pay dearly for what they had done to him.

Used, abused, ignored, and tossed away like shit! That's all people ever did to him. Someday he would show them the same torment.

He felt comfort though. While Duncan had taken hold of Samael's leash, Samael had, in his one glorious moment of freedom, condemned that would-be bride and his bitch of a cousin to Vaughn's depraved sexual fantasies.

He had smirked at Shianni, seeing her naked, abused, and raped body, before leaving contentedly with packets of gold. He would have killed Soris on their way out but then he would have been expected to bring the body with him or else face punishment for the idiots he was forced to call his family.

Family of shitheads was more like it. They were all so willing to drop their trousers and get on all fours for their human masters that it was laughable.

He didn't give a damn about any of them, despite being an elf himself, Samael hated elves.

* * *

He was polite to the King, he showed no hint of hostility. The King was a moron but he didn't deserve Samael's ire too much. He informed the King of the deplorable state of the elves, hinting that the King didn't care, but the King surprised him by saying he was, in fact, concerned for their wellbeing.

Too bad the man was too clueless to even start helping the elves. Not that they deserved it. The elves deserved to suffer and die. All of them did as far as Samael was concerned.

* * *

"Do you wish to receive the blessings of the Maker?" asked the Chanter politely, smiling at him in a look of superiority.

"You would give blessings to an elf?" asked Samael, skeptical. Chantry drones rarely gave elves any of their attention unless it was to yell at them for late or sloppy work.

"Of course, all can be blessed in the Makers eyes." She said cheerily.

Samael held back a snort.

"Does your God like enslaving and condemning others of different faith?"

"GET OUT OF MY SIGHT, HETHEN!"

* * *

Samael cursed as the damned Ogre took down the oaf Alistair and slaughtered the mage that had joined them.

The fiery charm around his blade was gone. He had TOLD the idiot to protect the fucking mage but it seemed the fool was adamant in his grudges despite what Duncan, a man that the fool supposedly admired, had told him. Even in battle he showed his pitiful biases.

The Ogre clawed the face of the guard that had accompanied them before tossing the poor bastard's body to a wall on the other side. The body smashed in a sickening crunch as the beast turned his way.

Well… he was a Warden now, wasn't he? Might as well make the best of it. It wasn't really all that bad of a deal once you look past the conscription and he was a lot freer now than he ever was at that shithole.

Seeing an opening, he took hefted his sword and grasped his knife tighter before sprinting straight at the behemoth and slamming his sword and dagger in the precise manner that would assuredly murder the monster.

He took great pleasure in raising his sword one last time at the downed beast and slamming the sword straight through its heart. The blood spattered all over his grinning face.

…Too bad the happiness was short-lived. Alistair wasn't dead. Pity that.

* * *

Morrigan informing him of the loss at Ostagar, combined with everything else that happened before that, prompted a rather emotional response from Samael.

He grinned broadly. Duncan was dead! What could be better? He would be shaking Loghain's hand right now if it weren't for the fact the man was probably hunting him and the other survivor down right now.

"You… don't care about what happened?" asked Morrigan, this was beyond even her vindictive nature. "…You don't care at all?"

She had accidentally shouted in surprise. She had expected the elf to be broken hearted or worse. Some sort of negative response. The Darkspawn had beaten them after all.

He shook his head.

"I could care less." He responded, curtly. "Duncan, the man who conscripted me, got what he deserved. I would have murdered him myself once I could overpower him. As it stands, I was barely in the order for a day. I don't know any of them. I'll do everything I can against Loghain, of course, but only out of my own survival. That man won't be satisfied until I'm dead if he was willing to pull this off… I have to respond in kind or else I'm as good as those who died in Ostagar."

He then smirked at her.

"Besides… it'll be fun!"

He then thanked her for her help and got dressed quickly to meet Alistair outside.

* * *

"So… you'll be taking charge then?" asked Samael, once they had taken down the bandits and arrived at Lothering. "I mean… it's only natural, of course, you being the senior warden."

"What? ME!" shouted Alistair incredulously. "Oh, no, no, NO! I'm a fighter, not a leader! Nope, you'll have to do it! Just think of me as a follower!"

Alistair smiled broadly, expecting Samael to appreciate the fact that Alistair had thrown the weight of the whole world on Samael's shoulders without any sort of help, any sort of way to go about it (Flemeth's suggestion of the treaties that were required to be upheld was more promising than some 'good man' possibly helping them), and expecting him to appreciate Alistair for it.

Samael decided then: If Alistair complained about his decisions after squarely putting all the responsibility on just his shoulders then he would make Alistair pay dearly with his very life.

Later he would free the Qunari from his prison and bring him along to join them on their quest. Samael avoided going to the tavern, knowing it would only cause trouble since he and Alistair were wanted men.

* * *

Isolde was a fucking bitch.

He had been forced to defend the idiotic and strangling group of village peasants just because this chick had been dumb enough to send Redcliffe's ENITIRE FUCKING ARMY on a madman's quest for some urn that was only rumored to exist!

Everything bad that happened could be blamed on this Orlesian bitch. No wonder Orlais was willing to part away with this Noble woman, she had obviously done something that resulted in Fereldan's victory over Orlais thirty years ago. This obviously wasn't the first time that this woman's actions resulted in something drastically heinous from happening.

If it weren't for the fact that they needed her husband alive then Samael would have suggested filing formal charges of treason and terrorism in Denerim over what this woman had caused.

Oh well, least the bitch would redeem herself by being a suitable sacrifice for Jowan's ritual. They would both redeem themselves this way.

Morrigan agreed to go through with the ritual and successfully brought the boy back from the entrapment of the demon.

* * *

Morrigan seduced him that night. She knew he had found her smoking hot and that he wouldn't be able to resist.

Besides, what man didn't dream of sex with no strings attached?

Sadly, however, he recognized that despite his willingness and their mutual enjoyment… she was just using him… just like everyone else.

* * *

Shale is quite a remarkable individual. He subtlety suggests coming with them because he desires having a golem by his side but doesn't want to intrude on Shale's freedom.

Another being who values freedom above all else is something that he can respect.

Alistair, of course, bitches like no tomorrow. It's all he ever knows how to do.

* * *

Speaking with Shale by the campfire is even more enlightening. Samael appreciates Shale and decides that Sten isn't useful enough to be in combat.

The Qunari trait of accepting your place in society and perfecting only one area has hampered the man's development in mastering two styles of fighting.

Grudgingly, Samael has to admit that even Alistair is more useful than Sten.

Samael later hates himself for admitting this when Alistair starts talking about how he suspects the other members of the group are untrustworthy because… oh, right, Alistair's only saying this to complain.

Alistair doesn't appreciate the allies made thus far, the other members willingness to _die_ for _their_ cause, or the fact that being suspicious of teammates all the time or worse voicing these suspicions, will cause unneeded tension and may even cause some of them to leave.

Of course these people are pursuing their own interests while helping them. Who wouldn't? They're bargaining their very lives by staying with them from both Loghain and the darkspawn.

Why the fucking hell can't Alistair shut the fuck up for once and actually take the time to appreciate this fact?

* * *

Samael stares up at the magnificent beast as it flies away from Kolgrim.

Wistfully, Samael thinks that perhaps going through Haven, the religious nutjobs, and even traveling up the mountain full of violent beasts, bloodthirsty enemies, and dangerous traps is all worth it to get such a great view of this glorious beast.

"Beautiful…" murmured Samael, his eyes remaining on the dragon as it flew away and settled itself to slumber. Kolgrim smirks having heard the whisper.

"It seems our brethren were mistaken in judging you too soon as an outsider."

Samael shook his head.

"While I agree to take the trial… I still don't quite believe that magnificent beast is Andraste. That religion has circumvented the freedoms of so many… and your people are far too isolated and collective for me to agree with…"

Kolgrim shook his head bemused as he turned to face Samael.

"Yet one look at Her and you think the journey was worth it?" stated Kolgrim, with a knowing look on his face. "You are truly an admirable fellow. Once you succeed in the task we ask of you… I shall give you a special gift. A power beyond your wildest dreams shall be bestowed upon you. A chalice with the blood of our noble Andraste, with it is the memories and powers of our people."

Samael looked at Kolgrim with a calculating look… before smirking.

"Good sir, you've got yourself a deal."

* * *

The Gauntlet was absolutely BORING. A bunch of stupid traps that could easily be walked though, eight useless and laughable riddles, and the pathetic Guardian trying to make them feel guilt for their dark secrets? PATHETIC.

Samael nearly laughed in the old fart's face when he tried to guilt trip him the first time. The second time when the stupid thing turned into Shianni was just as laughable. He told the fake to move it and smashed the necklace the disguised Guardian had given him under his boot.

He took a few scoops of Andraste's ashes (its properties could be studied and possibly used to rid him of the taint of which Alistair had neglected to inform him thereof when he read it in a journal entry he had picked-up) before pouring the blood as Kolgrim had wanted.

The Guardian's lament was so melodramatic. The fire demons easily defeated Alistair and the Guardian was able to defeat Shale but Morrigan and Samael's combined efforts won out in the end despite the odds.

* * *

Memories overflowed him… new memories, not just of that damned singing voice or the Archdemon. No… this was the High Dragon's memories. Memories of a beast that had seen and done much during it's lifetime.

The second thing that he gained was a significant increase in power. Power like that of those Dragons.

He now had the abilities of both the darkspawn and a dragon. With enough training he could become virtually unstoppable!

He could _feel_ it.

Once he returned to Genitivi, he swiftly decided to kill the man. He owed Kolgrim's people that much at least and the old fool didn't realize the travesty that could be caused by sending people here.

There was sure to be more guards, even if he had killed Kolgrim and his people, and it would cause more deaths on the part of the templars and soldiers. He needed all he could get for the war effort against the Blight. Even Chantry folk had their use in brainwashing people into believing they would live happily after being butchered like lambs against the darkspawn.

* * *

His first opportunity to train his newfound power came from a surprise caravan ambush.

After quickly taking down the Antivan Crows. He came upon an elf that was still alive but unconscious.

Samael smiled at the opportunity to learn more information about Loghain's plans.

"I think you did the right thing." said Alistair, ever the distrustful one… of everything except his obvious gay lovers, the Arl of Redcliffe and Duncan, apparently. "He was no good to us alive."

"Actually, he could have provided us with plenty of information on Loghain." corrected Samael, shaking his head in disdain at Alistair's idiocy.

Alistair furrowed his brow slowly in confusion. Ah! He was thinking too much. It might give the poor fool a headache.

"Why did you kill him then?"

"Because," said Samael, as if it were obvious. "He was an elf."

He refused to accept or be in gratitude to any of those people.

Of course, this was counterproductive to his goals. He decided, if any of the Crows wanted him to do a job that could be mutually beneficial to their goals, then he would do it.

The Crow at the Gnawed Noble Tavern gained much respect and Samael gained much appreciation by the rest of the Crows for his perfect and quick fulfillment of all contracts given even among Crow standards.

Master Ignacio happily offered Samael a place amongst the Crows, should he ever decide to leave Fereldan.

* * *

Samael was saddened. The Lady of the Forest refused his offer to slaughter the damned elves.

Oh, how he hated her despite her attractive looking body!

He soon found Zathrian in all his haughtiness, and brought him before the Lady. When Zathrian refused to free the werewolves from the curse because of some insane rambling about his long dead family, Samael attacked.

Talking didn't help, seeking peace didn't help, no… only murder truly ended a conflict. Only murder was definite. So murder this idiotic elf he would. Besides, he loved to kill anyway. Relished in it. The only thing that made him feel more alive or was more intoxicating was sex with Morrigan.

He would use the elves as they always had been used. Zathrian ended the curse and the werewolves were changed back to humans.

The humans thanked him and began whispering amongst themselves about getting back to their families.

Samael demanded something in return. The shit he had to go through had to give him SOMETHING of value. These stupid fools had prolonged his journey here at every turn. He was also irate over the fact the stupid bitch had refused to slaughter the damned elves. He would grow his persuasion proficiency to a point where NONE COULD REFUSE HIM!

A shield? Samael threw it away and took out his twin swords.

He had no use for such a thing.

Samael laughed as he spoke in deadly finality the last words these miserable idiots, whom had disrespected him at every given turn, would ever hear:

"It's a massacre… and NO ONE IS GETTING OUT ALIVE!"

* * *

Samael had resigned himself to helping the pathetic group of mages as he had those idiots in Redcliffe. After all, he needed mages to fight the Blight and Wynne had implied she might join his cause. Wynne was a very well-known Senior Enchanter who was especially sufficient in healing.

Samael was regretting the decision but then what else could he-

"You want us to assist this preachy schoolmistress? To help these pathetic excuses for mages?" said Morrigan, indignant of what he was choosing. "They allow themselves to be corralled like cattle, mindless. Now their masters have chosen death for them and I say let them have it."

His decision was already made but he was curious…

"Why do you treat the Circle with such scorn?" He had to ask.

Morrigan walked to the center between their party and Wynne's group. She peered at the group in contempt before turning around and smirking at him. The look said what wasn't spoken with words. She knew what he had already decided on.

"'Look at how they live." She said, looking at Samael directly in the eyes. There is a glint in those eyes. "Servants of the Chantry. They lack respect for themselves and their own power so why should I respect them?"

It was true. They were nothing more than sheep that could be slaughtered at any given moment. The reprieve of living amongst the Circle in safety was bullshit. Many Circle magi had written books upon books about how it was not as bad as it seemed, how the place was a brotherhood and family of sorts, and how they were sheltered and protected to live their lives. As if they were meant to be restricted in life…

It was a lie. A pathetic laudable illusion. The information on the Harrowing… the mere existence of the Harrowing, the possibility of death because politicians, be it the Chantry, the Templars, the Nobles, or their own senior mages, all demanded they go through it and risk being slaughtered… literally.

Their lives… had always been mere playthings. A gamble. They didn't seek their own freedom, their own happiness, or have any sort of self-worth.

He hated the elves of the alienage for that very same reason.

They couldn't be called alive. They had no say in what they did in life. Their lives had never been in their hands for them to decide on.

Mere pawns. That's what they all were, the mages and the elves.

Samael no longer felt any regret. He watched as Wynne accuse Morrigan of being an apostate and attack.

He took his weapons out and slaughtered them all. He himself tore Wynne's head from her shoulders and watched in disgust as the body evaporated. Only possessed people ever had that reaction. The fucking hypocrite.

Only the children were alive, huddled in a corner, they were begging for mercy.

"Alistair…" began Samael, suddenly having a devious idea. "…Kill them."

"What?" Alistair said, looking at him in hate. "How can you possibly ask me to do such a thing?"

"Weren't you the one who was arguing for the annulment earlier?" asked Samael, raising an eyebrow. This man was the most whiny, most dumb, and most hypocritical person that Samael ever had the displeasure of meeting. "Essentially, what you're doing now is the same thing."

"No, it isn't!" Alistair shouted back, spit flying out of his mouth in fury. "That… that was Gregoir's decision not mine!"

"But you were the only one to argue for it, were you not?" said Morrigan, deadpanned at the idiot before her. "What did you think you were arguing for when you suggested taking such a course of action? It may have been up to Samael but you were influencing him toward that decision."

Samael nodded in agreement.

"It doesn't matter if you weren't near them, that is just trying to ignore responsibility, you asked me to kill them." Said Samael, then he peered at Alistair in a calculating manner. "Besides, think of what will happen to them if we leave them here. They'll just be killed by the blood mages who need human sacrifices or taken over by the monsters like Connor was."

Alistair looked uncertain. He then seemed ready to argue back before Samael cut in quickly.

"It's my decision. I'm the leader so any responsibility for this… all of it, in fact, falls to me."

Alistair's shoulders sagged in relief. He wasn't the one who was responsible.

Alistair turned back to the weeping children and did as ordered with no guilt remaining in his system.

It was Samael's fault because he ordered him to do it, right? He was just following orders. He wasn't the strategist or the thinker so none of it was his fault.

* * *

Eamon is alive and in good health and when asked to simply let one man into his custody, he refuses. Yup, this dude really appreciated all of the effort Samael put forth for his sake.

Eamon soon starts demanding Alistair become King and essentially begins making all the decisions.

Samael should have known that any 'good man' in Alistair's judge of character was essentially a douchebag disguised with a kind smile. All you really have to do is agree to everything Alistair says to run circles around him and manipulate him.

Samael from there on felt obligated to ruin Alistair Therein's life permanently and making him King would not only do just that… why, it would ruin all of Fereldan! After all, with this idiot in charge, there was no way Fereldan wouldn't be burned to the ground by stupidity.

He smiled. Yes, he would die too that way too. Die of laughter.

* * *

Orzammar was a pain, Alistair's racist comments about Dwarves and their bad ale weren't helping his mood.

The scenery, the way the people lived, and the overly long and arduous nonsense of politics was really pissing Samael off.

The one good thing is getting a nice mirror for Morrigan. Shale's grown quiet throughout the journey here. Perhaps Shale would remember something?

The journey to find that bitch Branka is even worse. Holy fucking hell, does it go on for too long! It's worse than the Fade. At least in the Fade he knew how much he had to do and knew from the start it wasn't real since he desired freedom much more than he ever would victory. And Duncan alive? Hm, perhaps it had intended to be a horrible nightmare?

Samael slaughtered his way through.

He is disgusted by the broodmother. Never had he seen something more ugly than that… that thing!

He agrees with Shale when being asked by Caridan about what he intends to do, Shale is his friend after all, and informs Morrigan, in a clipped manner, that power wasn't the only important thing in the world. Yes, it was significant, very significant. But freedom was invaluable.

Branka is slain by Oghren who joins the party after Bhelen's inauguration. Samael smiles as Harrowmont is taken to face capital punishment for his crime of existing. Samael's happy because it means change for such a pathetic lifestyle of midgets living in molehills.

At least they have a strong leader and a significant amount of support for a change in the status quo. Dwarves are productive and always attempt to better themselves when it comes down to it.

Elves either live in their rut like those pathetic city elves or blindly live in the past that no longer exists nor is well known even to themselves like the Dalish folk.

They willingly live in shit. They only deserve to be treated like it.

* * *

Samael takes several important trips before the Landsmeet.

First to the Warden's Keep. It's memories and lost history are of no importance to Samael. Alistair, however, is very much intrigued. Even Morrigan and Shale can't keep their curiosity under check.

After the end of the entire, expected, fiasco. Samael thinks he's been doing this 'cleaning-up-other-peoples-shit' routine for too long since he pretty much expected it. Oh well, least he got more extra abilities. Those were usually worth the stupid fiascos.

Avernus's life is spared. Yeah, sure, he's certifiably insane but the important thing is he agrees with Morrigan's ideas about the Chantry and Alistair is unhappy about the decision even though he doesn't voice it this time.

Such is the joys of getting back at assholes!

Next, he keeps his promise to Shale and goes through the remnants of Cadiash Thaig. Shale recovers most of her lost memories and Samael patiently discusses it with her. Eventually, they both come to a mutual sort of respect and admiration as friends. Shale is very happy to have a friend after having nothing and being enslaved by idiots far longer than she cared to recall. Samael sympathizes due to his experience at the horrible alienage and can only agree with her ideas about freedom.

He fully intends to find a cure for her should she ask.

Finally, Ostagar is the last trip. Samael takes Maric's Sword and Cailan's armor for his own. He adds enchantments to them to make them stronger so that he'll have dual wielding ice swords with golden armor. Very fitting.

Alistair isn't given Duncan's sword or anything he rummaged of Duncan's. They're sold to Bodahn Feddic for gold. Samael suggests using them as displays saying that they were the uniquely crafted weaponry of the Antivans he killed. Hopefully the use of them as displays is the only use they'll ever get and that will be the only tales told of those weapons.

Duncan doesn't deserve to be remembered or honored in anyway. He doesn't even deserve a gravestone. Morrigan had agreed to burn the bastard's body into ashes before Alistair caught up with them to find out what undead they were fighting. There would be no burial, no commemoration; absolutely nothing is what that man deserves.

Cailan's dead carcass is left as is. Samael didn't know or care for the man and he sure as hell wasn't going to give special favors for a body just because it was of 'nobility'. He could care less about how noble ones blood is.

If they were to burn Cailan's body then they would have to burn the bodies of all the fallen and they had walked through a sea of dead corpses before finding Cailan's.

Alistair, of course, doesn't approve because it's 'our King, damn it!' The idiot doesn't realize how worthless that title was when applied to Cailan's rule.

* * *

Morrigan's mother, Flemeth, needs to be taken care of.

However…

"Shame, what'll it be then?"

"Before I tell you…" began Samael, easing his posture. "I just want you to know that I sincerely thank you for both the treaties you kept safe and for saving my life at the Tower of Ishal. Due to circumstances presenting… I'll never be able to pay that debt back and I apologize for that. But… I'm glad you found me worthy of your time and effort…"

Samael crossed his arms in an x shape around his upper chest and bowed low in a formal sign of acknowledging a superior. Bowing this low meant he acknowledged that he was inferior to her in all aspects. Samael slowly raised himself upward and stiffened his posture to a more battle-ready pose yet again.

Flemeth looked stunned and even… unsure of what to do? She quickly recovered and went back to her amused stare. There was a glint of something new in her eyes.

"My… this… was unexpected." said Flemeth, gazing at Samael in approval. "Hm, I think you've earned a bonus. I'm aware of your newfound powers thanks to the taint, the darker taint from your trip in Soldier's peak, and your increased abilities with the dragons blood."

Samael's eyebrows shot up as his eyes widened in absolute shock. How long had she been following them?

Flemeth snorted in amusement.

"No, no, I didn't follow you at all. I never need to follow anyone. I know everything that happens in this world." Flemeth smiled viciously as Samael and the rest of the party gave her calculating gazes. "I've known everything since its conception, in fact."

Samael realized implications before she confirmed them.

"Why did you need Morrigan then?" asked Samael, curiously. It made no sense. Why would the real Maker need Morrigan's body?

"Why, as another host to use at my disposal." chuckled Flemeth, "The body of this old lady, in fact, isn't even my only one. I have some others. One in the Free Marches right at this very moment."

"Allow me to give you a history lesson. If you'll indulge this old woman and her long, boring speeches." began Flemeth, Samael and the others knew to stay quiet. If they interrupted her then they could lose out on valuable information. "To explain to you everything, you deserve it after all. You went above and beyond the station I called you for."

"I'm sure you suspected it with Cadaish Thaig, so I shall confirm it for you. Humans, elves, dwarves all did, in fact, live in complete harmony once before. They praised all the Gods, those that the nomadic Dalish still pray to, ruling during their time for their bountiful and carefree world. I was among these gods… and I got bored. After all, I was, and still am, the goddess of song, much like the current corrupted God you're fighting now is that of beauty, I desired more exhilarating noise, cries of battle, of victory, of desire. None was to be had in this peaceful place. Only hums of peace prevailed."

"I strengthened myself so that I was the strongest, and once I had amassed enough power, I struck down my own kin, I destroyed our home – that which you mortals refer to as the Maker's throne – the Golden City. I then spread sounds of deception and whispers of death while transforming my real self into the first real, and mightiest, Archdemon. One whose accounts died with the passage of time. I destroyed the everlasting peace and enjoyed the sounds of death and bloodshed that soon spread. To keep my kin locked-up, I started singing the most deceptively beautiful music that has never been on this earth. It created the Darkspawn you know today. The plague of legend, of me, was misconstrued as accounts for the first Darkspawn attack."

"Incidentally, the Darkspawn themselves are corrupted souls of those long dead. Cursed to relive their ancient battles among themselves if an Archdemon isn't awakened. I wanted to make sure that I stayed in control of this world, so every one thousand years, when the corruption I placed in the core of the land seeps into the purity of the kin sealed inside and erodes their mind and true figure, they are summoned to cause as much havoc as possible and eventually killed by a hero who, upon death, has their soul become the next Archdemon's strong lieutenants in the form of a physical manifestation of corruption. Typically, they become powerful Hurlock Vanguards. Once all Archdemons are dead, I will be the only ruler of the world left."

"There is one other thing I'd like to share with you… concerning Morrigan's parentage and myself. The chaotic melodies that I make in this world are shaped, primarily, by me. I _was_ Andraste, I _am_ the Maker. As such, whatever children I have are born for greatness. Morrigan is, in fact, my daughter. Thus, I needed to take her body to make sure she doesn't change the course I want the world to go in. She has the ability to do so. I invested much time in coercing and manipulating people around me to do my bidding for them but Morrigan is smart, she knows there is something amiss. I had attempted to influence you by giving a red-headed bard a bit of my beautiful singing and deluding her into thinking I cared for the world through her dreams, the same thing for that bitchy old mage you killed. I used one of the good spirits of the Fade, of which I have control over, to slowly corrupt her soul while keeping her alive. She never felt the corruption, only the warmth and comfort of a mother that she was denied of while living in the Circle Tower."

"Ah! This brings me to my next ramble… the ones known as 'evil' spirits of the Fade are just desperate to survive without their respective gods resuscitating them with their auras of power. Magic could have resuscitated them just fine if allowed to exist freely, as it was meant to since it is the purest form of reality and existence. Human stupidity of keeping them locked-up with falsifications of the Chantry, who condemn the ancient and true works of mine and my Kin, will eventually cause the world to rot to death once all become followers of the Chant of Light. It also happens to be increasing the power of the Darkspawn corruption since the Chant of Light was created by me as a catalyst for the corruption.

One last thing, besides Morrigan, there is one other who can change events out of my parameters of control. I've created a reincarnation of the first Archdemon slain. This person was created to become, first, a champion of a place known as Kirkwell, and then to be renowned as something even greater than a god… a new Andraste, as it were."

"He or she is going to be a Messiah, I take it?" Samael scowled, why had she told him all this?

"Yes. they will be. As for why I'm telling you all this and why I've done all of it?" said Flemeth perceptively, a kinship found with Samael."Why, I did it all for the same reasons for why you make your decisions. For the fun of it all! Why tell you all this? Because I'm bored and I want more of a challenge!"

"Now, come, we've dawdled for too long. You shall fight me in my High Dragon form. About ten percent of my actual power from the Fade. Don't keel over and die too soon. I'm very interested to see what you can accomplish now that you exist under Morrigan's tune and not mine."

Samael realized then… freedom in this world never really existed…

* * *

The Landsmeet begins soon. Hooray! Not really…

Loghain comes to them to try and gall them into making a mistake. Eamon is surprised by Loghain's brashness, Samael is bored.

Loghain trades a bunch of blithering with Eamon who is equally as hot headed before turning to him of all things and telling him how sorry it was to hear of the Warden's betrayal at Ostagar.

"Well…" began Samael, smiling in amusement. "You couldn't possibly have known what happened. You certainly didn't see any of it. You were the coward who quit the field and abandoned your King to such a tragic end."

"Watch your-" began Cauthrien before being promptly interrupted by a highly amused Samael.

"Silence, whore." Samael interrupts in a clipped and serious tone of voice. "Everyone here knows the real why you're so adamant to defend him. It's no secret you're taking it up the ass."

Cauthrien's blood boils, her face is as red as a tomato due to her anger, and one of her hands raise up to the hilt of her blade on instinct.

"HOW DARE YOU-!"

Loghain silences her and leaves. Arl Howe just laughs at the joke. Eamon is not amused with him.

What? Was that supposed to be a secret? It sure as hell couldn't be false information!

* * *

He is called to Eamon's office and is informed of Erlina's plight to help the poor Queen Anora.

"No." said Samael with finality. "We're not doing it."

"Need I remind you that Anora could be a good ally against-"

"No." repeated Samael, annoyed that his decision was being questioned. Eamon's ego was certainly bloated. "This farce is a trap. Anora being murdered by Loghain? Who the fuck is stupid enough to believe that?"

Eamon is annoyed. Samael has shouted this right in front of Erlina, making the maid angry. Samael doesn't give a shit. Eamon is about to retort.

"Even if it is true," interrupted Samael, he doesn't want to hear more of the Arl's excuses to go along with this idiocy. "There is no possible way it could be blamed on you. Your army's being monitored and restricted in activity by Loghain, not to mention still suffering from the losses of the attack I had to help deal with, Anora is within Arl Howe's clutches so if she dies there then it'll only be beneficial for us because Howe will lose face, and finally why didn't this… maid just go to the Banns or other nobles? Why specifically you and why call for the Wardens? If we're caught or even spotted you'll assuredly lose the Landsmeet."

Eamon's face tightened at that. He didn't want to admit that he wanted to get rid of Samael so that Alistair could be couched and presented as a true leader before the Landsmeet and present himself as a leader of the rebel group they had assembled.

"The other nobles wouldn't believe me!" shouted Erlina in desperation. "I'm an elf and an Orlesian! They wouldn't even deign to listen to what I have to say!"

"Indeed, and neither should we." Said Samael, smirking. Erlina's eyes bugged out as she gapped at him. She was shaking her head in disbelief. This couldn't be happening! Samael turned to Eamon once more. "Eamon, we can't trust an elf. You know how they are."

"B-but… you're an elf!"

Erlina had all but shouted gobsmacked by what was happening. She had assumed that the man, being an elf, would be more willing to listen to her. How wrong she was… How wrong Anora's assumptions had been…

"Exactly. I'm aware how you disgusting urchins think." Said Samael, giving her the most loathsome look she had ever encountered from anyone. "Your hive mind, your disregard for your own worth, and your desire to allow yourselves to be depraved in the worst ways so that you may get meager scraps of shit to live on."

"I hate you, elf. I see no reason to trust one such as you, especially not a servant of someone as devious as the daughter of Loghain."

"Please! PLEASE!" Erlina started crying and fell to her knees. Eamon looked at her sadly before turning to face Samael who wasn't moved in the slightest. Erlina cups her hands in a prayer stance. "PLEASE – I'll do anything!"

She was in tears now as she fell on her knees. Her eyes were begging as they looked up at him.

"Please! Rescue her! Save her! Anything!"

Samael snorted. He hoisted her up by her neck and held her above him. Eamon and Alistair shifted uncomfortably at Samael's tight hold around Erlina's throat, slowly choking the life out of her.

"Listen here, elf." Spat Samael, his red eyes glimmering with a fire of hatred underneath those orbs. "If Anora, in any way, shape, or form, betrays us. I'll kill her myself because she's better to us dead than alive. Understand me?"

Erlina's mouth tried to make a retort as her eyes widened in horror. All that came out was gurgling because of Samael's tight grasp of her throat.

"I don't give a rat's ass if I get suspected of it. I can easily blame it on Howe, and I assure you I have the connections to pull it off, if I even smell betrayal I'll chop her head off her shoulders, got it?"

Erlina's body shook slowly before she tried nodding as best as she could. Samael dropped her to the floor and brusquely walked away to inform Morrigan and Oghren that they would be leaving with him.

Erlina gasped for air as Eamon moved to help her up.

"He's right, you know…" spoke Alistair after Samael had left. "I don't trust Anora either and this really does smell like a trap. I don't think this is a good idea at all..."

Eamon frowned.

Why must everyone be so petulant? If he said it was a good idea then they had a duty to follow it. He was an Arl after all. He had helped set-up the Landsmeet, he had helped decide for them that Alistair would be King, he had risked his very life by coming here, and he had drawn them significant political support... though more would need to be gathered.

* * *

They sneak in the mansion with ease. Samael almost flat out refuses to help Anora once the magic spell is revealed to be holding her captive inside but he is in a good mood. The money he hid almost a year ago was left as is. Soris hadn't blabbed the location at his capture before Samael had been conscripted.

They go in further, easily sneaking past the fools, and meet Riordan. The meeting bores Samael. At least he found loot though…, aha! Some action!

Howe falls dead at their feet and they release prisoners that were his captives for too long.

Samael meets Soris and promptly leaves him where he is. He doesn't give a shit about the idiot but won't kill him because he didn't blab about the money. At least he's worth something, which is more than can be said about the rest of the alienage.

Vaughn is here as well. Samael slaps the idiot awake and after a Vaughn acts like a bigot in front of him, Samael slews him and takes his key.

All of Howe's riches are his! Finally! Some more reward for all his hard work!

Anora is freed but they run into Ser Cauthrien who intimidates them to surrender.

"For murdering Howe?" laughs Samael, shaking his head. Cauthrien sneers. "Jeez, you really MUST be taking it up the ass hard if you can't see how much more beneficial Howe is dead to even Loghain than he is alive."

Samael looks at Cauthrien straight in the eyes. This is the last meeting these two will ever have in the world of the living.

"Death first!"

Alistair, of course, is the first to get taken down due to his bumbling and inability to listen to orders. If only Shale were here! She would have taken down half the squadron herself!

Oghren soon follows but not without taking out his fair share of archers.

Only Morrigan and Samael left? Perfect!

They both run inside the narrow corridor and into separate rooms. The remaining members of the squadron disperse and separate to find both of them.

Samael easily takes down the ones after him and Morrigan is even quicker with her combined fire and ice spells.

Cauthrien is vengeful. She immediately comes after Morrigan but is attacked from behind by Samael who lets out a mighty intimidating roar to catch Cauthrien's attention.

Morrigan uses the distraction to strike at Cauthrien with her most vicious and vile single-target spells. Samael easily matches Cauthrien's battle prowess.

Victory is theirs. Cauthrien falls to Morrigan's harshest ice spells and Samael takes her sword as a trophy.

* * *

Anora is disappointed that Samael killed Cauthrien. Samael is ready to kill her. It didn't go unnoticed that she fled the scene.

Anora, however, is clever and gives him incentive to let her live by asking him to take care of business in the alienage.

He agrees and they discuss what they should do at the Landsmeet.

"Alistair shall become Queen and you his bride." says Samael, with certainty.

Anora raises an eyebrow.

"Very well… once you speak to Ali-"

"Speaking to him is not required. I've decided and we are agreed."

Anora is surprised. She smirks. Samael smirks back.

"Do you need anything, my lady?" asks Samael kindly, gazing at her in an admiring fashion.

"I – no, not at all."

Anora is left baffled and flattered by the request. She notes how Samael did ask how she was doing once his temper had simmered down.

"Really?" asks Samael, smirking slightly, his eyes looming over toward her bed. "There is nothing at all I can do for you? Surely, the lonely and depraved conditions you were left in need nursing, yes?"

Anora gazes at him. Truly looking at his figure for the first time. Cailan's performance had been lacking during their 5 years of marriage… and she had been craving it for a whole year now. The dreadfully lonely conditions she was left in because of Howe had certainly not helped…

In a moment of weakness… asks him to quietly shut the door and tells Erlina they are not to be disturbed.

Samael smirks again in victory.

* * *

"What? Absolutely not!" bellowed Alistair, outraged by what he had just been told. "You have no right to-!"

"You're doing it because I'm telling you to." said Samael with finality, folding his arms and gazing at Alistair with indifference. "You will marry her and you shall be King. This is not up for discussion. I've already finalized my arrangements with Anora."

"Well, I won't have it!" shouted Alistair, spit hitting Samael's face. "You can't force me to-"

"Alistair," interrupts Eamon, looking at the senior Grey Warden in disapproval as Samael wipes the spit off his face in annoyance. "You must realize that there are some sacrifices, lifelong sacrifices that have to be made for the good of the country. Fereldan's been in civil war for far too long. Your agreement to this could the end unnecessary bloodshed and have people focused on the threat of the Blight."

Alistair looks at his former guardian in betrayal. What he doesn't understand is that Eamon is backed into a corner and has no choice but to agree for sake of future stability. Eamon only has himself to blame, he had hoped to erode Anora's influence by keeping her here and foolishly ignored Samael's own measure of influence on the situation.

"No! I refuse to do this!" shouts Alistair petulantly. "It's my life – my decision. There has to be another way!"

"There are but this is the best way." said Samael, his eyes locked on Alistair's. "Of course, I should've expected this. You actually caring about anyone or anything beyond your own desires were too much to hope for."

Alistair snarled and his eyes flashed briefly with a murderous gleam.

"Listen to me, you-"

Alistair attempted to grab him but Samael was faster. He swiftly grasped the collar of Alistair's shirt underneath his armor, hefted the surprised templar up, and slammed him to the wall behind him harshly.

Eamon's shouts were ignored as silence overtook both of them. Samael's hateful red eyes boring into Alistair's vulnerable brown ones.

"You will be King, you will accept your duties gracefully, and you will happily marry that woman." snarled Samael, eyes never wavering from Alistair's defiant look. "If you don't then you're just as worthless as everyone else in your pathetic life has told you that you were and as such…"

He paused upon seeing Alistair's murderous gleam flash again after having reinforced the fact that everyone in his life: The dead King, Eamon, Duncan, the Chantry, the Templars, and himself had all treated Alistair as nothing more than a burden. At some length, a tool that was used and thrown away.

Why did Samael hate Alistair then? Because he did _nothing_ but complain about it, never shouldered any responsibility, and never decided on any of the more difficult questions. He expected Samael to deal with them – always. Thus, Samael had, including the decisions that involved Alistair. Alistair therefore had no right to be upset.

He never took his life in his hands to live it himself. Maric, Eamon, Duncan, and Samael had done it for him.

"If you don't go along with it – I'll just kill you."

* * *

Samael snorts once he arrives at the shithole.

It was amazing, truly laughable amazing, how he had thought the worst of these idiots and they managed to go beyond even his expectations of how stupid they were.

They all actually believed themselves to be sick… when there was no proof of any of it! How pathetic were these people?

Oh joy, temperamental bitch at 12 o clock.

"You! What're you doing here?" She snarled, glaring at him hatefully. "How dare you return after what you did!"

Samael smirked. Then dropped his smirk at Alistair's continued annoying comments. Honestly, did he remember nothing from meeting the Guardian at the Gauntlet? How could he ask what Samael had done when the Guardian had said it in no uncertain terms?

"Do you wish ill of me?" asked Samael, curiously. One would expect her to after what happened.

She closed her eyes in anger and balled her fists in rage before letting go and facing him again. She wore a look of remorse and sadness.

"No… I don't. I can never forgive what you did but…" Shianni looked downward so that Samael wouldn't see the tears willing to spill out. "I could never hate you."

Samael's jaw dropped in mystified shock.

What? WHAT! She didn't… when she had every right to…?

He couldn't understand it. He couldn't understand her. He didn't think he ever would.

Why? Why did she still-?

She had every right, the most right; the greatest of all to, at the very least, hate him. If not actively seek out his death…

"I need your help." She sobbed.

Much later, once they finally find the slavers hide out. Samael very nearly went with the deal of taking the contract and letting the man have the slaves and the money but decided not to and attacked the man viciously for not giving him any compensation.

The man begs for his life, offers blood magic to enhance his abilities. It would mean sacrificing Valendrian, the enslaved elves, and his own fath – no, Cyrion.

On the way here, he recalls that one elf who cleaned and kept quiet about what was going on, about the stupid ones not far outside within the alienage… all of whom, save Shianni, allowed paranoia to control their very lives, and who continue to live in their shithole in worse conditions than before…

And then there were the events that led to his mother's passing…

He looks at all of these elves, gazing at him in desperation, Valendrian… his father… and some of these children…

His lips curve upwards with that fabled smirk of his.

"I'll take the ritual but it better be good or else you die."

He outright laughs at the horrified and hateful looks the elves in the cages give him. The chilling laughter carries outward and echoes of it can be heard from outside.

* * *

The Landsmeet gets underway.

After some childish rants, Samael successfully wins in their cat-and-mouse debate. Anora attempts to intercede and defend her father. Samael gazes at her questioningly and her eyes flash dangerously when he catches her eye.

…Oh dear, someone has become pregnant with an illegitimate child. Samael grins.

Despite Anora's best efforts, Loghain is denounced and when he threatens to attack?

"If you want a fight, Loghain, then you've got it!"

He LOVES it! Loves it all! Pandemonium, chaos, and calamity don't even begin to describe the fighting that ensues upon Samael's shout!

Samael kills three swordsman, then attacks three archers, and runs straight to Loghain's location and starts exchanging blows with the man.

Morrigan has blasted, frozen, and murdered a whole squad on the far corner near Loghain's location as Shale is tackling 6 opponents and holding her own. Alistair has already killed four.

Samael very nearly kills Loghain right there before the stupid old bitch shouts for order, saying they should fight under terms of order.

Stupid fool! Order in FIGHTING? The shouting match before is a fake, a lie, and a trick of the eye!

What they're doing now, fighting to the death, it's the _reality_ of the situation. Those words only hide the true intent of what they wish to truly cause.

Stability is a lie. So long as people argue, it'll never be true. The desire to kill far prevail everything such as a charade of debates.

Honorable one versus one? Is that a joke?

What the fuck do people find 'honorable' about murder under special conditions as opposed to murder amidst chaos? Do people not swear revenge in both instances? Does the desire to murder not change? Isn't blood still spilled, and eventually continued to spill because of the malevolence over such events?

If one life is spared, at the moment, does it truly matter if its lost fighting for the same goal in amongst another clash over the same ideas repeated or just updated in some manner or form?

Death is the only true winner in these bouts.

They begin their one on one fight. Loghain – The Hero of Riverdane Versus Samael – the, uh, arbitrator of internal disputes?

Samael mentally kicked himself. He needed a better title.

Loghain ran straight at Samael and bellowed a mighty roar that was empowered by Loghain's very willpower. It knocked Samael right off his feet. Loghain viciously attacked his downed opponent.

Snarling hatefully, Samael got right back up and empowered himself with his inner berserker.

He thoroughly, methodically, and relentlessly struck at Loghain with every combo he had to offer. His twin swords never let up on Loghain and Loghain was forced to back into a corner.

Samael's blazing, literally glowing, red eyes struck an inner fear in Loghain that he had come to know during the many close call fights he suffered through in his life during the war against the Orlesians at Maric's side.

In less than thirty seconds, Samael had defeated Loghain single-handily. Samael's rage soon became tempered slowly as the rush of battle and his own bloodlust slowly receded.

Loghain conceded and smiled as he recognized that Samael, the true leader, the one who had the same tenacity and strength required to take morally ambiguous actions for the good of those around him had bested him, the hardened veteran, so easily.

Samael… was at a loss. He didn't want to kill Loghain, Loghain understood what it took to defeat the Blight unlike that petulant idiot Alistair who never took his head out of his own ass, and he never wanted Alistair to have the pleasure of killing Loghain.

He looked at Loghain solemnly, with regret… and respect. He voiced his decision before taking out the Summer Sword. That sword had belonged to a rich fool who fashioned himself a skilled warrior and Loghain had taken his sword as a trophy before handing it to his, secret, concubine

Loghain's eyes widened in recognition but said nothing and went back to his solemn stoic look. He nodded at Samael, he was ready, and he would not fight against his own execution. He would not shout out at the unfairness, or wish ill on his countrymen, or any childish and stupid actions of the sort.

Samael handed the sword to Riordan briefly while walking over to Loghain outstretching his hand for a handshake in respect. Loghain smiled a genuine smile and shook it. Samael leaned in close to his ear and whispered.

"I fucked your daughter. Sorry."

Samael let go and rapidly strode toward Riordan to get the sword before Loghain fully comprehended what he just said.

Loghain's eyes bugged out and he swiftly looked at Anora with his mouth agape. Anora looked startled by the look at first before her eyes widened in comprehension of what Loghain had been told. She couldn't help the fact her cheeks flushed in embarrassment as she realized her father now knew of a secret she had wished to withhold from everyone. Loghain's eyes widened like saucers at that response.

It told him all he needed to know. He had hoped that perhaps the Grey Warden had some terrible sense of last minute humor that he had wished to give Loghain a less painful death but… Holy Maker! What had she been thinking?

Loghain turned to snarl at Samael… but swiftly had his neck gutted and the last thing he witnessed was Samael's apologetic face.

Hopefully, the kid Anora was going to birth wouldn't bear too much resemblance with Samael.

* * *

"How could you do this to me?" shouted Alistair, finally meeting Samael again in private the day after the Landsmeet. "How could you throw all of this at me? Being King, on top of marrying that… that bitch!"

Samael smiles kindly at Alistair.

"I want to watch you suffer."

It was, in fact, the truth. It was the only reason he had made Alistair the King and married Anora to him.

"You… you hate me, don't you?" responded Alistair. He was now looking at him in a surprised and barely suppressed horrified way. Was this truly a shock to him? Did Samael have to spell it out for the fool? "Why? What did I ever-"

"Are you really fucking serious?" interrupted Samael in a deathly quiet voice. His glared at Alistair in the most loathsome way he ever had glared at anyone. His hatred seethed through his very blood. "Does this really come as a surprise to you? I didn't think even you were capable of being this idiotic. Clearly I was giving you too much credit since the first time I even met you."

"From day one, you've done nothing but criticize and hound me for the decisions I've made, and what for? _You_ put _me_ in charge because you didn't have the balls to take your Grey Warden responsibilities seriously. You were the senior Warden, you were suppose to be the leader, and all you did was throw the entire weight of our country, perhaps even the world, on my shoulders! I had to decide, I had to lead, I had to build the army, and I've basically done everything in keeping us all alive. Not just that – I had to decide the lives of others as well… and you couldn't even bother to share any of it! None of the responsibility! Nothing! You never took any of the burdens and you had the GALL to shout at me every time I made a decision you didn't like. Even worse, you bitch on and on about 'what it means to be a Grey Warden' but besides shirking your responsibilities, you didn't even know the first thing about it! Loghain, had I not killed him, would have been a valuable source of tactical battle knowledge due to his experiences but I knew you would have whined about it as you do everything else and I never praised or even liked being a Grey Warden so I went against the better judgment of Riordan. I didn't wish to see a great man such as Loghain suffer this tainted shit that your stupid bastard of a commander forced on me. We were suppose to decide the pros and cons of someone's value to defeating the Blight as Grey Wardens yet you could never look past your Templar training in the Chantry, a place which you supposedly hate yourself, to see the value in joining with groups that existed outside the pathetic and hypocritical standards of Denerim law. In fact, you were suspicious of everyone just because you couldn't see outside the prejudices of society! If it weren't for your usefulness at being a bastard I would have killed you long ago."

"As it stands, the punishment you have now is worse than anything else I could have done so it doesn't matter anymore. After this fight is over, I hope you suffer, I hope you rot, and I hope you live in boredom and misery! You do nothing but whine! You're nothing but a whiny manchild that screams like a spoiled brat every time he doesn't get his way! You never grew-up from when you were kicked out of the Arl's estate as a child. I don't know what the fuck happened to you to make you that dumb but the least you could've done is not whine every time I decided to do things differently from how you wanted it to be. Why the fuck would you put someone else in charge if you wanted a say in what happened?"

Samael was not done with his tirade. Not with this stupid shithead. He smiled coldly at Alistair. The man- no, the whiny brat's face was turning a shade puce before Samael interrupted him.

"You remember those mage children that I ordered you to kill?" He began coldly. Alistair froze, his eyes widening in confusion. "That's on you and you alone. It doesn't matter who the fuck gives the order, if you decide to take a fucking sword and behead someone then you're responsible for it happening. No excuses."

Alistair was shaking his head in denial. He never had any guilt for what he had done and put it out of his mind thinking it truly wasn't him that had caused those events… but now? No, NO! Samael was the evil one, not him! It was all Samael's fault! Just like it had been Loghain's fault for Ostagar! Eamon's fault for throwing him away! Maric's fault for not wanting him! It wasn't his fault! He was just following the orders as was expected of him!

"No! It was your fault!" shouted Alistair, angrily. He looked ready to kill Samael. "And another thing you're going to help rule this place! You have to help! You owe me for what you did to me-!"

"You're pathetic." Said Samael simply, gazing at Alistair scathingly and cutting off his tirade. "This is why Loghain will always be a better man than you."

His red eyes were gleaming in triumph.

"He stood his ground and faced his death for the crimes he committed with his head held high and with no crybaby bitchiness. Riordan saw that man's value, as Duncan would have as well. You were a mistake, you know that? You were Maric's pathetic mistake, you were forced on Eamon before he realized you were too worthless and threw you away, and then Duncan made the mistake in pitying your sorry excuse for an existence. I made you what you are. I made you King because you have no capacity to do anything outside whining. You're this stupid country's problem now. I can't wait to watch you burn Fereldan to the ground from the sidelines. You've never achieved anything by yourself… perhaps Anora will pull through and shoulder the burden of having you around? Ah, but she has to, doesn't she? The poor girl, forced to marry someone as worthless as you."

"I'll have you executed!" shouted Alistair, glaring at Samael murderously. "I can – you know! I'm the King now!"

Samael laughed in his face. Tears even streamed down his eyes at Alistair's comeback. Alistair just frowned and looked ready to shout some more.

"See? There it is again! Only thinking with your head in your ass!" laughed Samael, brushing away the tears. "Who would command the armies? Who do these armies that I've formed fall under the banner of? Who has gained the respect and fear of the masses throughout all of Fereldan? What do you think the morale would be to suddenly have the HERO of Fereldan killed by the man he made King?"

Samael smirked viciously at Alistair's shaking fists and boiling anger.

"You're nothing without me."

"It's easy for you to say, isn't it?" Alistair shouted, screaming at him in the face. His bottled up anger finally letting loose. "You – you… ugh! You have no idea how it feels! You don't give a damn about anyone! I lost all my brethren. I couldn't let that go! What the fuck would you have done if Morrigan had been slain by Loghain during that fight in the Landsmeet? Don't tell me you wouldn't want to kill him to avenge her!"

Samael stared at Alistair in a pensive manner. Alistair was about to shout his triumph when, yet again, Samael interrupted him.

"…I would have tortured him for having done that." said Samael, looking at Alistair seriously perhaps for the first time since Alistair had thrown all the weight of responsibility on Samael when they were in Lothering. "But I would have been smart about it. I would have done it in a way where he could still have been of use to me but ruined his life all the same."

"Oh?" snarled Alistair, folding his arms. "What would you have done? Killed Anora in front of him?"

"No, I would have made you King and agreed with Eamon in convincing you to have her locked up in a dungeon."

Alistair stared at Samael in shock. That truly would have destroyed Loghain in the worst of ways. Fereldan would be in Alistair's command and his own daughter would be locked-up in a tower somewhere, possibly on death row, while he was forced into conscription for an organization he antagonized and used to defend the country he loved. Even Alistair realized how heartless that was.

"What is wrong with you?" whispered Alistair, shaking his head in disbelief at Samael. How could one man be so cruel? "What the hell happened to you to make you… like… how you are?"

Samael snorted at Alistair's idiotic way of asking before fixating his eyes on Alistair. He informed Alistair of what had caused it. The resentfulness, the hatred, and the unforgiving demeanor he asserted upon everyone around him. Alistair was left speechless and realized too late just how much Samael had actually worked to cause the events of the Landsmeet to happen. Yes, he had mostly done it for fun but it wasn't as if he hadn't worked hard and he realized, to his own chagrin, that Samael had taken a harder route in saving Connor, with demands for Morrigan's cooperation, because he had – at that time at least – respected Alistair to some degree. Alistair had slowly lost that because of he refused to come down from his moral high horse and actually give Samael some slack when he made the tough choices.

He had thrown the weight of the world on Samael… literally, so Samael had thrown the weight of a Kingdom as Alistair's penance for the rest of his life for his laziness and selfishness in regards to fighting the Blight.

Alistair decided then, even though it was far too late, not to give any sass towards Samael any longer. He may not like the man, he hated him in fact, but he had done more than his fair share and had his own sad past that he had taken strides to move forward from.

* * *

"You're sure of this?" he asked sadly, giving her a forlorn look. "There is no other way? I could come with you… provide protection and-"

"No." she cut off in a clipped tone of voice. "This is the best way. I… can't ask you to come with me. With the information you've given me and from the true Grimoire… it's obvious that there would be no way for me to protect all of us from her. All my attention must be given to the child."

"I'm sorry… for what it's worth."

"Don't be, Morrigan." said Samael, shaking his head before he drew in a breath. "Some day… perhaps not any day soon, but some day. I will find you and I will be strong enough to hold my own against that bitch."

She smiled at him serenely.

"I look forward to it, my love."

* * *

Through the gates, through the corpses, and through the chaos they went. Samael ended-up saving Shianni and her stupid fucking alienage. He had hoped she would die but unfortunately Morrigan had stopped any chances of that happening with the clever use of her spells.

Alistair was smashing those damned emissaries left and right. He did as ordered and never let up. Samael appreciated the gesture but couldn't respect the man even now. It was far too late for any reconciliation between the two.

Their sea of corpses was stopped when they found Sandal.

' _Well, fuck me…'_ thought Samael, looking at Sandal in respect. ' _I should have asked him if he wanted to become a Grey Warden. I wish he had been part of the group…'_

Samael shook his head in amusement and nodded to Sandal in respect after finishing their business negotiations.

Riordan died a fool's death… though admittedly he had cut open the damned dragon's wing. It still was left up to Alistair and Samael to finish the job.

The fight they had with the beast was a tough one. Even Shale had been struck down on more than one occasion. Alistair was taken down the most because he kept striking the beast in the front instead of the rear.

Alistair, after being revived, was the best able to strike that knocked down the Archdemon and Samael concluded the battle by striking the blow that would entrap its soul into the unborn child of his and Morrigan's.

It was done.

The post-coronation that ensued only left Samael with bitter regret. Alistair asked him if he would say, making sure not to make any more demands, but Samael said he refused. He would look for Morrigan… eventually. She was, after all, right inside the building in dog form next to Sten. They would say their last goodbyes and part ways. Alistair agreed on not being told how he had survived the killing blow of the Archdemon. Honestly, the man assuredly didn't want to know.

Samael spent the next few years helping Shale recover her body with First Enchanter Irving and Dagna's help.

* * *

The fucking shithole…

They were inside Cyrion's old house. A piece of shit that Samael had willingly given Shianni just so he wouldn't have to deal with the taxes or own anything from here. He had returned on the request of a note begging for his help. Shianni was begging him to find a solution to the demons inside the old orphanage. A blind Templar had tried to fight his way through and solve the problem but had disappeared and was most likely dead within the abandoned building. The city guards had refused to help after a substantial number of losses and politically Shianni had made increased the negative reputation of the elves because she had vocally defended their plight.

Obviously, because they were idiots, they didn't appreciate her efforts and the racists in Denerim refused to even dignify her with any sort of response. Her last resort was the unwelcomed Hero of Fereldan. Alarith had been vocal about him never coming here again and had swiftly lost his head.

The city guards didn't stop him, not just because of whom he was, but because they had been haggard by giving the ungrateful elves some food relief supplies under King Alistair's orders only to find more demands for more relief from the damnable urchins. Hopefully, Samael beheading one of the more vocal ones would subdue them for some time.

"No."

"Please… please!"

"What could you possibly offer me as compensation? You've got nothing. And why the fuck can't you do it yourself? You fought against the damn dark spawn in the war. Any of those who fought should be able to."

Shianni bowed her head in shame. She hadn't exactly kept up with training because of the political maneuvering she had entangled herself in to keep the alienage relatively safe. Samael just shook his head in disgust.

"I thought you were different from them, yet here you are, just bitching to have others do all the work for you. You're so pathetic."

"Please…" she whispered quietly, gazing at him in a pleading expression. "For… for…"

"For you? Cyrion? Valendrian?" Samael laughed harshly, He sneered at her. "Save your breath. I'll let you in on a little secret. I KILLED THEM! I had a blood mage sacrifice their worthless lives to give me more power."

Her eyes widened in horrified shock. He walked past her and to the door but paused upon her pitiful cry.

"For ANYTHING!" she shouted in distraught. "I'll… I'll do anything. Anything you want me too! Please! The problem… it's putting so much fear and distress on my people. Some are starving to death still despite the food relief. There were so many orphans left in the alienage ever since the attack… I… I… I have to do something. These monstrous ghouls are beginning to murder people through dreams!"

"There is nothing you could offer me."

"Pick something!" replied Shianni in desperation, "Anything! Anything within my powers at all!"

Samael turned to face her and folded his arms. He tilted his head while evaluating her proposal.

A vicious smirk crept up his face.

"Take all your clothes off… and I mean all of it." He spoke, regarding her with a hungry look. She stood there stunned with her mouth beginning to hang open. "I won't repeat myself."

She stared at him in horror. She felt like falling to the floor and crying for the rest of her life. How cruel could he be? She had been raped by Vaughn and his men repeatedly! For weeks on end! She had tried to pull through but she had been used in such horrible ways and never spoke a word. Only Samael knew the extent that she had been harmed. She had been there for a good three months and never spoke of the events because she didn't want to relive it. The others had died for Maker's sake! She had been the lucky one… the rebellion had been stirred by the outcry of what happened to Samael's betrothed. She had been raped repeatedly, even worse than Shianni for being more attractive, and had been hacked to pieces!

But… the alienage… for the good of the alienage. The Alienage was worth all the sacrifice. It was her home, where her loved ones had lived. She needed to protect them and the innocent orphans by any means necessary… for any amount of sacrifice required…

She hastily did as he told her to. She even took off her hair pins, leaving her hair to fall on her shoulders. He walked toward her slowly regarding her figure. He removed a glove from his hand and began touching her body as she started inhaling sharply.

It was wrong on so many levels… they were cousins and yet… Shianni had secretly loved him for years… Samael saw the gaze she was giving him and smirked in recognition. She felt humiliated that her own body was aroused by this.

"I'll do you this favor on one condition." said Samael, laughter in his eyes. "You bear me a child."

Shianni's face turned beet red. How she loved and hated him at this moment…

"The child has a good chance of being mentally handicapped." She frowned, gazing at him in sadness. "And… and you expect me to raise it on my own, don't you?"

"You will live with this decision for the rest of your life, yes." replied Samael, "The child will most likely be retarded. Consider it punishment for asking for my help. You should've known better."

"But – but you will help, right?" cried Shianni in desperation. It needed to be worth the sacrifice after all. "Please – you… you have to-"

"Make it a night to remember and I will."

Shianni hesitantly nodded and guided him towards the bed. She would try her best to show enjoyment for it. Vaguely, Shianni recalled what had turned Samael into such a monster and wished that Adaia, Samael's mother, had never died such a horrible death and wished that Valendrian and Uncle Cyrion had responded better to Samael's natural reaction to what he witnessed.

* * *

Later in life, he learned Spirit Warrior abilities and with Avernus's help, ripped open the veil to the Fade and walked in to search for a strong demonic spirit to attach his soul to.

He would not be seen for many, many years to come. He never found a spirit suitable to his needs but strengthened his own soul to the point where it could match an Archdemon's.

When he returned he used he transformed into a fierce dragon form of his own making to fly toward Kirkwell. His sights set on the famous champion of Kirkwell.

Flemeth's manufactured Messiah wouldn't know what was coming until it was too late.

Hawke would die a horrifying death and Samael's heir with Morrigan would later change the world.


	2. The Spread of Poison

A mighty roar echoed in the once abandoned Soldier's Peak. The Drydan family gazed up in stunned awe at the magnificent beast that had just flown away from Soldier's Peak.

Avernus, the only one inside the Peak, had actually left his research momentarily to see a bird's eye view of the black dragon that had swiftly taken to the sky. It roared an ethereal green fire as its mighty black wings bellowed in the harsh wind.

What was a black dragon doing here? Where had it come from? Where in the Maker's name was it headed toward?

* * *

_Shianni led him toward the bed. He had been 'kind' enough to remove his armor and inner clothes, all that was left was his rag-torn underpants. He smirked in a pleased manner as she got on her knees and began to remove the undergarment. She began her menstruations._

Shianni shook her head to get rid of the shameful memories. How she _hated_ Samael for what he had her do to protect her home. Such perverse and disgusting acts just to satisfy him… and what made it worse was that, unlike Vaughn who felt pleasure whenever she screamed to stop, she had to fake being happy about it. She had taken it all with a pleased smile and felt infinitely dirtier for it.

The worst of it was… though she would swiftly deny it, unlike Vaughn, a part of her sorely enjoyed the night shared with Samael… because Samael was the only one she had ever wanted to be intimate with. He had taken her to such pleasurable heights of euphoria and shameful as it was, she cried herself to sleep at times because she missed him. Shianni hated to admit it but Samael was the only boy she had ever… or would ever love. She had secretly been happy with Alarith's death since Alarith had been pushing her to marry him since she was "used goods".

Samael… had always made her feel special…

_Shianni lay on the bed in sweat after having climaxed with him so ferociously. Maker, how she was loving it. He had done it so harshly and she couldn't help but scream his name out in pleasure. Samael smirked down on her, realizing that she was, in fact, enjoying this perverse use of her body. Shianni tried to crack her eyes open, she felt so tired. All her energy was spent._

_Samael shook his head before deftly flipping her over. He brought her knees up so that her ass would be facing upward. Shianni made a noise in the pillow before waves of pleasure consumed her body yet again as Samael pounded into her vigorously from behind. She screamed out his name once more in a crescendo._

…at least before he had sold her out to Vaughn. That had been the ultimate betrayal. She had no longer become his Shianni, she had become nothing more than something he could trade away for profit. He had done it again that night and yet she had felt… complete that night. Like nothing was missing from her life. Now she felt a hole in her heart… fortunately that had been filled up to an extent…

"Mama, I b-bwaght y-you, th-this flower." said a little boy walking happily toward Shianni. Shianni chuckled slightly. Claudius cutely raised the flower as high as he could toward his mother. Shianni bent toward him to take the flower from him. She inspected her son's features. A spitting image of his father in most respects, except for his hair and his eyes which were red and brown like Shianni's. Miraculously, young Claudius didn't come with any birth defects. The Healers that King Alistair had graciously sent to help her with her birth had stated whomever the father was had built his body to the point where it was immune to most genetic diseases and thus it had not carried over. Alistair and Shianni had agreed to keep the father a secret for fear of possible murder attempts on the child. The popular belief was that the child was the son of Alarith and while Shianni despised this she knew it was necessary and much more preferable than the truth. The elves were… gullible enough to believe it despite the obvious physical differences that Claudius had with Alarith. She would be ostracized by her people if word got out she had fucked her own hated cousin and bore his child.

Shianni took the flower from Claudius and tucked it behind her ear before wrapping her arms around him and kissing him on the forehead. The hole within her heart had been filled… because Samael had left her with something to remember. She loved her son and she would raise their son by herself just as Samael wanted…

* * *

It was a sunny day near the farming borders of the Free Marches. A figure, dressed secretively in a white cloak, stood on a hill in a clearing, waiting patiently. Preparing itself for what was to come.

Hawke confidently walked towards the figure.

"If you desire my death… then do it. I've brought enough grief and misery to people I care for."

"You're sure of this? You realize what you're agreeing to-"

"Yes. It is…. better this way. I… failed to protect my brother, then my sister, and my mother. My entire family is no more… my companions are gone as well. I'm only a fool on the run from Chantry seekers who wish to use me to take control of mages seeking sovereignty from a vile religious organization that has only ever been out to save their own asses."

"Hawke… please, please don't do this! I-" shouted a voice running up quickly behind them.

"It's too late Merrill! We can't allow Flemeth, that vile wretched monster, to use me to keep her damned hold on the world! You know why I MUST do this! People need freedom… just as the mages of the Circles do. We… I… must die and with my death… shall people behold a truly different world."

"NO! NO, I WON'T ALLOW THIS-!" began Merrill, beginning to cry. She ran faster toward the sunny clearing.

Hawke gazed at the figure unafraid as they took their scepter and pointed it at Hawke. Merrill had foolishly forgotten her staff in her rush to save her Hawke. She ran attempting to get to her love in time before…

"Goodbye… Dumat, Lord of all silence."

Hawke gave a nod of understanding. Flemeth had to die at all costs. His life… had become pathetic. The only good in it had been Merrill and a few of his other companions… and Flemeth had to be killed at all costs to keep them safe from her wretched control. If his death helped achieve freedom for those he loved? Then he was all the more honored to die a fool's death!

A wretched black aura was pulled apart from Hawke as his very soul was torn asunder and thrown into the winds. The power blasted Merrill away as she was too frantic to properly defend herself from the explosion of magical power.

Tears trickled down the unconscious elf's face as Hawke had fell face forward, never to rise again.

Morrigan teleported away, her objective achieved. She would never admit to herself how much of a personal affront this necessary deed had been not only to her spiritual beliefs but to her relationship with Samael as well. It was clear that Flemeth had tried, and failed, to create some second version of Samael that could've grown strong enough to kill Morrigan so that her mother wouldn't need to do it herself.

Dumat, the first Archdemon's soul, held the power of silence and could have ended Morrigan's tune, changing the fated events Flemeth had set forth. Hawke, unfortunately, had no way of getting out of Flemeth's control as he was created to be Flemeth's champion above all else.

* * *

Anora smiled down happily watching her daughter run around the courtyard playing with the children of other noble families from her balcony. Within their own high society confines, the children were allowed such foolishness.

She was content. Her tryst with Samael had resulted in a daughter so there was no possible way for the girl to inherit the throne and fortunately enough the girl resembled Anora's father and there didn't seem to be any dominant elf features present. To make sure nobody questioned the child's birth, she had practically forced Alistair to consummate their marriage immediately after the Blight was stopped and their ceremonial wedding done. Alistair had been less than forthcoming, something Anora found personally insulting as she happened to be one of the most beautiful women in all of Thedas, and it took some persuasion about the good of the country. She had even lowered herself to having Arl Eamon help convince Alistair, of all the embarrassments.

Alistair was even more resilient since then when she tried goading or enticing him into sexual intercourse with her. She was disgusted. While she had a kingdom, a child, riches as vast as the eye could see, overwhelming public support, and prominent authority in all lawful matters (as Alistair was little more than just a trophy King) she didn't… and likely never would… have a fulfilling personal relationship. Calin had been an idiot and a rock in the sack. Alistair made the intimacy feel completely awkward. He made it seem as if he was being violated by her and that angered her to no end.

How could someone turn down the offer of sex from someone of her figure never mind her stature? Why were the men in her life such prudes? Anora would never admit it to herself but that night with Samael had been the happiest moment of her life. There were no legal headaches or stupid people that needed matters settled, there wasn't a threat of war or violence, and there wasn't any worry for what the nobles, most of whom (Arl Eamon included) viewed her as a wrongful leader on the throne due to her commoner background despite who her father was.

It had been simplicity at its finest. A man and a woman pursuing their own interests in exploring each other sexually.

Samael having briefly made an impact in her life had been the best and worst decision Anora had ever made… or ever would make in her life. Politics, taking care of an idiot King, and worrying about stability were all that was left for her to do in her lifetime.

Fucking Samael was all she dreamed about now…

* * *

Alistair was dead…

Or so he wished.

He truly never had the chance to simply live his life – to simply be himself.

He now wore a fake smile and endured cheers of being a King, of being the next in line, of continuing it.

He had become the ultimate symbol of something he never wanted – a man who was only of use as others saw fit.

Eamon, he now knew, only wanted him for being a bastard and political gains he could score from Alistair's favors.

Anora only wanted him to secure her own power within Denerim. She had gone as far as practically raping him just so she wouldn't have a chance at losing it.

He would smile as he walked around Denerim, seeing the rats come at him, appraise him when before the rats had never bothered to give him any respect. Duncan had given him respect at least…

No one cared… nobody cared for him so he never bothered to care for himself…

It was stupid, he knew. That was a stupid logic to follow but Alistair had always been an emotional person and as such he followed his emotions more than logical thinking.

He hated it, he hated it all! To hell with it all!

He hated walking around in public demonstrations with that false smile that Anora taught him to wear, he hated delegating all these stupid government duties to Anora with only being required to sit and look pretty because Fereldan needed his title of being a bastard for stability in the country, he hated Arl Eamon for being so treacherous – using him for his own political gains – for lying all his life about caring for him beyond just being a tool he could exploit… he had realized that far too late. He fucking hated Anora for being a complete bitch, for forcing him to have a child to 'secure' Fereldan's hierarchy (more like to further secure her own position of power especially after finding out about Cailan's intentions from the notes Samael found at Ostagar), and for their stupid political marriage that now dictated his entire life. He HATED Samael for being the worst asshole he had ever met. He had liked the prick at first before the man proved himself to be a cutthroat bastard after Alistair chickened out of being leader of the group.

All that was left was self-pity and self-hate. Nothing really mattered in his life anymore.

In the end, after being a Templar recruit, a Grey Warden, and the most notable a bastard, he had realized it had all meant nothing to him in the end.

The Templars never needed him, the Grey Warden's never needed him with people like Samael around, and Fereldan only needed him for something he never had any control over.

In the end, his only notable worth was to sit down, smile, and crack a few wise-ass jokes to convince everyone that he was happy with himself. That's all it took to mislead those idiotic masses. It's all people expected – wanted – from him.

It's all he had ever truly been worth.

* * *

Sister Nightingale sat on her comfy chair pouring through her notes about the Hero of Fereldan. She was currently reading through all the notes sent directly from Denerim about the Hero of Fereldan before his recruitment by the deceased Grey Warden commander.

Ever since the Blight ended, the Chantry had taken steps in recognizing how much this man was a threat to their grip over the world. They had already failed with Tevinter, though that was no surprise considering the mutual animosity with the Chantry painting the Imperium as villainous peoples who resembled cartoon caricatures of evil. The grip on Kirkwall had fell flat on its face as mages and even templars had started rebelling all around the world.

Cassandra Pentaghast had been assigned to gain background information on the mysterious Champion of Kirkwall and Leliana herself had been assigned by the Divine to conduct her own background check on the Hero of Fereldan to distinguish truth from fiction. They needed vital information on the elusive hero of Thedas. They needed to understand him on an idiosyncratic level, his habits, and his own historical actions before he finally defeated the Blight. Since she had already failed meeting him to spy on the bastard about nine years prior, she was left finding as many accounts as possible.

After distinguishing the hearsay from the truth, she had found that after having interviews and learning several accounts about the man, she started to see a pattern.

Unlike how she had previously believed, Samael Tabris did not harbor hatred for humans. He held malevolence for elves. All elves. This in itself was disturbing especially considering the political power he had. The man was cutthroat, blood thirsty, and a realist. He didn't consider himself part of any elf society nor did he hold any amount of value toward any sort of personal identification such as citizenship, race, or Order. The man practically despised the very concept of order itself.

If not for having actually used his Grey Warden treaties and honoring his duties as a Warden, the man may as well have been considered an anarchist. The Warden's disappearance had certainly caused a stir among the Fereldan masses. Where had the mysterious hero gone? One couldn't simply vanish… yet vanish their hero did.

Many believed he had simply taken a position at Weissupt or went to travel the world and the Grey Warden's did nothing to correct those rumors. After all, nobody wanted to flag the news that the man literally vanished from the world.

Finding out about his deeds were easy enough. She had learned much from her travels around Fereldan to discover his actions in the different locations he had journeyed. Orzammar was at the peak of a golden age after all, everyone knew about the events in Denerim as it was common knowledge even to leaders of other countries, his actions at Redcliffe seemed more mythical but she knew of the ruins that the Chantry had made – and failed- to make pilgrimages for because of the High Dragon that had utterly destroyed the place, his actions among the elves were easy enough to find out about, and his other lesser known side adventures had only taken a bit more time to discover.

The man was cold and ruthless but efficient. There was some alarming information though. He had murdered a group of humans in a deep cave rumored to nest Werewolves in the Brecillian forest. However, this could readily be explained that he had instead murdered werewolves and they had simply changed back to their true state upon death. It couldn't warrant any charges as these people were either not among any recorded accounts of missing people or were had been reportedly cursed with being a werewolf. As such, she couldn't pin any blame on the Hero of Fereldan for what could have been mere self-defense. The charges would be far too circumstantial.

The elves sacrificed with blood magic in the Alienage however? Unfortunately, they were elves, and the law didn't perceive it as a huge loss. Bringing it up during Fereldan's food riots among the Alienage would have been a terrible political maneuver especially since Queen Anora cooperated well with the Chantry demands about information concerning the Hero of Fereldan, the Apostate Morrigan, and the history of the Champion of Kirkwall during his time in Lothering (admittedly, there was scant few records on the latter two) despite outwardly being known as 'sovereign' among international politics.

Politics and reality weren't always the same thing.

The Chantry's forces were among the largest across the world, ushering in soldiers all over Thedas willing to fight for the Divine and the Chant of Light. They were the strongest transnational organization in the world, stronger even than the Grey Wardens who were only necessary during the Blight. The Chantry did recognize their need for Grey Wardens, however, and respected their right to stay out of political struggles.

Samael Tabris had utterly destroyed that golden rule. Orzammar and the Dalish obviously didn't follow the laws of the Chantry so they were unspoken for. The calling of the Landsmeet and placing a Grey Warden on the throne, however, was questionable. Though the accounts of Alistair being a bastard of Maric's was true and consistent. The Chantry's objections stopped once blackmail information was uncovered revealing that Alistair's mother was an elf and a mage. Mages had always been… disapproved of by the Chantry and elves were simply not equal to humans no matter what they did.

It was a reality that Leliana hypocritically ignored. For her, it was better to believe that the Chantry was an all-encompassing force of good as she was taught to believe.

Finally, Leliana researched the alienage and his parentage. Samael's parentage was unremarkable but he had been known to show some skill in battle at a young age which was… odd.

It was rather perturbing to discover that before even becoming a Grey Warden, he and another elf were able to take down an entire squad of guards within the estate of the son of the former Arl of Denerim. How could one young man have gained so much skill? The Alienage certainly didn't encourage weapons training so this had obviously been done in secret… she discovered that his parents, while scouts in a platoon of the army during the revolution against Orleasion occupation, hadn't kept up with their training… except his mother was warned about training with weaponry she had apparently stolen a few years before her death... This had prompted Samael to keep to his training and distanced him from the rest of the alienage. He had grown distant and bitter over his mother's death. She found the accounts of the guards during his mother's apparent one-man rebellion didn't match and discovered the real accounts for what happened to be far more disturbing. With the help of his cousin, Shianni, who sent her written testimony of what happened, she discovered what truly took place and was even more frightened that this man had become so powerful in both literal and political form.

Leliana did a double-take when she re-read the information about the boy's mother. She had been kidnapped by… Commander Harwin Raleigh, a man killed by unknown assassins that had also freed his enslaved victims.

Adaia Tabris…

Leliana reclined into her chair and pinched the bridge of her nose.

This was the worst thing that could have happened….

Leliana felt like laughing at the horrifying irony of it all.

SHE had been the unwitting assassin that had saved Adaia Tabris from her would-be ill-fated death by the hands of that corrupt bastard. She had saved that elf… that elf, Leliana vaguely recalled, had said something about teaching her child to respect humans…

That elf had taken measures to defend herself just in case of that happening again, had passed on the training to her son, and in the end? She had been killed in the worst of ways right in front of her child and that son had become one of the worst forces to have ever threatened the power of the organization Leliana had dedicated her life to.

Leliana didn't need to dig much to find out that Samael had been fucking an apostate mage who was supposedly the daughter of a goddamn myth that the Chantry really hoped didn't have any bearing of truth.

Maker, this was truly a migraine. Leliana had her own future to consider now. If she revealed to the Divine that she had unknowingly been a part of this during her days as an Orlesian assassin for hire?

She would encourage the Divine to go with the plan of encouraging the story of Samael having a Circle magi and a chantry bard along his quest to defeat the Archdemon. That way it would gain less political upheaval against the Circle of Magi and more followers to the faith. A small white lie didn't hurt others, it only encouraged the masses to follow blindly after all. The Chant of Light was the only truth that needed to be followed.

Most importantly, no one would know of her 'small' involvement in all of this or its far-reaching consequences.

* * *

_Adaia Tabris hummed softly to herself as she finished cooking her meal. She took pieces of food and slowly divided the portions among the chiseled – yet still useful – plates so her family could eat._

_She was grateful, eternally grateful, to the Maker for sparing her life from that dreadful Commander's clutches. Thanks to that Red-haired assassin, she had escaped freely and was able to make it back home safely. Her husband and son rejoiced at having such a miracle happen. Both Cyrion and Adaia prayed to the Maker everyday in gratitude. Samael prayed too… though it was rather awkward. Cyrion and Adaia had tried to instill the boy with a strong sense of faith but he still wasn't old enough to grasp the concept of a God yet. He would ask why he was being punished with waiting to hear from some voice. They had tried to teach the boy through reading the Chant of Light but Samael simply showed no interest in such things._

_The boy liked playing with his cousin – more like sister – Shianni and his slightly younger cousin Soris outside during the summer days. And honestly, why let the boy be cooped-up reading an old book? He would grow more appreciative of it during the times of the coldness seasons so that he would have something to do._

_It was a simple, happy existence. It was beautiful and perfect in Adaia's eyes. Nothing could make her happier. This was why she had begun to train all three of those cute little rugrats so that they would defend themselves from any oncoming danger. The Hahren Velandrian rose objections, along with many of the other fellow brethren, said she was just looking to get into more trouble then what she had got into before. That the humans would take it the wrong way. Yet Adaia knew from personal experience that the humans would try to do whatever they wished upon the elves of the Alienage anyway. She had first-hand experience. As such, as a mother and a concerned citizen, she felt it was her duty to teach the young ones anything that may help if or when the time came for them to defend themselves._

_After reviewing their builds and seeing how they handled the make-shift wooden weapons she had given them, she had concluded that Soris and Shianni were more fitted for the lithe form of fighting. Samael, however, had been more of an anomaly. Her son was proficient with duel-wielding a large sword and a knife but didn't seem to like two knives or the rapid movements common with Rogues. He was more of a strong and fast warrior. He couldn't balance two wooden swords when doing combat moves, of course, considering his young thirteen-year-old frame but he had potential. Shianni and Soris were both much more adept at fighting and showed more promise. Adaia made sure to keep her bias in check when reviewing all three of them. Samael wasn't the fastest among them, nor was he the strongest (as Soris was proving to hit harder despite only using short wooden knives), and he wasn't the brightest among the three. That had always been Shianni. Soris always followed Samael around and tried to follow the activities of Shianni and his. Once Soris broke out of that, he would no doubt be a strong Rogue someday._

_Adaia herself was little more than the average Rogue herself. Sure, she had been part of the great revolution that gave Fereldan its sovereignty but she and Cyrion had never been anything more than part of a small reconnaissance band. She wasn't all that strong. She never knew what in blazes Duncan had seen in her that made her believe that she had potential to be anything more than a typical rogue-styled fighter. She would have joined, to be part of something greater than herself, to do some good in the world, but the idea of settling down and starting a family had been much more appealing to her especially after all the elves had to endure during and after the emancipation from foreign rule._

_The Hahren had quashed Duncan and her opportunities anyway. The weasel that the man was. Yet, in this instance, she actually had appreciated the effort. Cyrion was a good man and she felt… content with her marriage. She had feelings of friendship for the man and that was enough. Samael had been the real boon of the entire marriage. She loved her son as did Cyrion and they felt dutiful to each other after their child's birth._

_The kidnapping had been dreadful. Her emergence back into the Alienage had brought the jovial mood back. Cyrion, to her dismay, didn't approve of teaching the children how to fight due to his own fear of losing her again. She was part of the stability in his life and while there wasn't really much of what one would consider romantic love, they still did care for one another. Cyrion said no good could come of her teaching them and that her foolishness would get her into more trouble. But honestly? She didn't care. She knew what she was doing would be a good deed somewhere along all three of their futures. At some point in their lives, they would be thankful. She loved all three of them, she would be ashamed if they were hurt or worse and she could have done something to better handle such dire situations. They were still young, of course, and hopefully that sort of burden would come to them later. There was, unfortunately, no avoiding reality. Elves were third-rate citizens in Denerim, always have been and always would be. This was despite their efforts all throughout Thedas in multitudes of accomplishments including Maric's ascension in reclaiming his birth-right. Thus, it was better for them to be prepared for reality._

_If only reality could have waited until they had matured…_

_The sunlight was beginning to set on the typical summer evening in Denerim. It had been your average day. Kids playing outside, cooking for them, getting them to clean their rooms, and explaining the finer points of defending themselves – like always._

_Then reality set in. The timeless happy days evaporated._

_Adaia was cooking outside for once. It was a quaint pastime she had made so as to bring more people around to share her meals with and speak to her fellow impoverished brethren. On this occasion, however, it was only herself and her three little stooges. It was a nice and boastful evening meal. The four spent time discussing their training excitedly and speaking of Denerim gossip._

" _Oi knife-ears!" yelled a guard, presumably the leader as he and three other guards behind him came to stop in front of her, right outside her home. The entire town crowded around to find out what was going on. "There's been rumors here of you training your little maggots for a rebellion."_

" _What? That's absurd!" shouted Adaia, cautiously she looked back at her children to find them all backing away before turning to face the guards again. "Please! This is all a misunderstanding… perhaps if I could just-"_

" _Shut up, bitch!" he roughly punched her in the face. She fell down head first and hit her was a bit dizzy after the fall. "Listen here, wench! We don't need to fuckin' listen to yah!"_

" _Please I..!" he came upon her then, he started to swiftly kick her repeatedly. Adaia pitifully tried shielding herself with her arms._

_It became obvious to her that they were merely here as a pretense. For whatever reason, they had come here to give in to their bearer nature and inflict pain on the alienage, in this specific instance her, for fun. This wasn't that uncommon of an occurance though usually kidnapping was resorted to so that whomever was inflicting the pain wouldn't lose face among the public eye once rumors circulated._

" _Someone! Anyone!" shouted both Samael and Shainni as Soris was shaking from fear. "HELP!"_

_More elves came to see the event. Including the Hahren Valendrian and Cyrion. No one stepped in to help her. They all had their faces bowed._

_Samael turned to his father and the Hahren._

" _Dad! Hahren! Please you have to do something!"_

_The stood silently and looked away from Samael in shame. Samael gazed at them incredulously. Why weren't they helping her! This was his mother! Didn't they care?_

_He was grabbed by the collar roughly as was Shianni. The guard punched him square in the chest. He cried out in pain. The other guard started ripping Shianni's clothes off. Soris just gazed on as his body shook in horror before he started running away into the crowd of elves._

" _N-no! Wait! Please don't touch them!" Adaia cried. The rest of the elves silently looked down as this went on. They didn't raise a finger to help bowed their heads in shame._

_The guard kicking her looked at the one who grabbed Shianni._

" _Oi! None of that!" he bellowed harshly, the other guard stopped what he was doing confused at why he was being yelled at by his boss. "We ain't touchin' the little ones. That's just sick. Besides, this dame here'll do anything for her kids so we just take turns on her, yah?"_

_They proceeded to take turns raping Adaia after that. Adaia screamed and hollered for them to stop as Shianni, Samael, and the crowd of elves watched in horror. Samael would try to wiggle his way out so that he could get to his mother or cry for someone to help but he would only get punched by the guards as a reward. Shianni had initially screamed for someone to help her but in the end just sobbed quietly as she tried to block out Adaia's screams. The rest of the Alienage watched, an air of defeat hung over them all. What could they do? If they intervened, it would only lead to more trouble. Better to just hope for the best. What if the guards chose to attack them next? Or their families? Better to just let it be. To just ignore it. To just watch and pray for a better tomorrow._

_Not wanting any evidence to remain the guards would make sure their deed couldn't be reported. Samael and Shianni were thrown harshly to the wall of Samael's house and they both fell with a thud. Samael tried to get up and help his mother… and witnessed the guards burn her alive. This way no evidence remained. Shianni was fortunate enough to be knocked unconscious by the throw. Samael cried as he witnessed his mother's dying screams of pain._

* * *

_He laid in his bed for… who knew how long? A week? A month? Perhaps even a year had gone by. He didn't care to know. His mother was gone forever… taken from him by those fucking humans! Those fuckers were gonna PAY! WHY! Why had it been HIS mother? Why not someone, anyone, else's? What the fuck had his mother done to deserve such a thing! WHY HADN'T ANYONE HELPED HER?_

_His mind had been in turmoil ever since. He hadn't bothered to acknowledge Soris or even Shianni even though he knew that she was hurting just as much. He hadn't left from his bed except to go to the bathroom. He hadn't even bothered to eat. He didn't want to eat unless it was his mother's cooking…_

_Why was life so cruel to him? Why did his mother have to die?_

" _Samael…" spoke his father… no, no, he would no longer acknowledge this piece of shit coward as that. "Son… I've brought the Hahren to come speak to you about… about what happened…"_

_Samael didn't turn around from his position on the bed. He didn't give a shit what another coward had to say._

" _Samael, that's enough!" snapped Cyrion, his son had been like this for too long. It wasn't good for him. "You WILL respect the Hahren's presence! He is your elder and the wisest among us!"_

_Old traditions sounded hollow to Samael's ears now. Nevertheless, he respected the demanding voice's wishes and turned to face them. He didn't bother with the customary pleasantries required toward the Hahren. He didn't bother. Instead he faced them with an accusatory gaze. The Hahren knew what was going to be said._

" _Why?" Samael practically shouted. He glared at both of them in contempt. "Why didn't you save her? Why didn't you… TELL ME WHY?"_

_He was angry and he was damn well gonna show it. Why the hell hadn't they saved her? The whole village had watched her get raped and burned to death!_

_Cyrion was about to yell at him for his disrespect again, anger at the events overbearing his good judgement, when the Hahren took over._

" _Listen well, child." Spoke the Hahren sagely, making Samael and Cyrion focus their attention on him. "What happened to your mother was tragic… but inevitable. She was set on training you and your cousins with weapons and we all knew it would only lead to a tragedy. Your father and I asked – begged – her to stop but she wouldn't listen to reason."_

" _It was her own stubbornness and disregard for the rules that got her killed."_

_That eloquent answer made Samael's blood boil. What the fuck was this shit? His MOTHER was at fault for being raped and burned?_

" _Y-YOU!" shouted Samael, in primal rage. "YOU ALL COULD'VE STOPPED THEM IF YOU HAD TRIED TO-!"_

_SMACK_

_Cyrion gazed at the tearful Samael sadly. His angry visage slowly melting to sorrow. The boy was young and inexperienced. He would understand the laws of the Alienage someday._

" _No, we could not have." responded Valendrian calmly, "What good would it have done? It would've led to more bloodshed and violence. It is better to think of the many. We cannot risk the humans threatening the entire alienage. With their superior numbers, weapons, and military tactics, we would be done for. This very alienage is designed in a specific manner to make sure troops can quickly dispatch us if we so much as rebel against them."_

" _It is an unfortunate tragedy, make no mistake, we all grieve for Adaia's loss but we must protect the peace we have now as best as we can."_

" _PEACE?" bellowed Samael, hate spewing from his voice. "You call this PEACE? This is… ARGH! This stupid, it's fucking dumb, it's – it's… SLAVERY! You could've stopped it. You all could have stopped it! You guys didn't even try! You – all of you – you all just watched it! You didn't help her. The humans wouldn't have gone that far had you done something!"_

_The Hahren was beginning to get annoyed._

" _Quell your anger, Samael." Spoke the Hahren, a touch of annoyance creeping into his voice. "It is not our fellow elves you should be angry at, it is the humans who-"_

" _THE HUMANS WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN ABLE TO DO ANYTHING IF YOU ALL WEREN'T A BUNCH OF SPINELESS COWARDS!"_

_Two resounding smacks, from both Cyrion and the Hahren, followed soon after._

_Samael was silent from then on. He refused to acknowledge or speak to either of them no matter how much they tried to goad, shout, or smack him into it. They left to discuss his future punishments. Samael needed to quell his anger or else the humans may do something like that again and the best way to get a boy to listen was to punish them harshly for their misbehavior._

_Samael knew the truth, he knew that the humans wouldn't have been able to do half the shit they did had the elves grown a spine and stood up for themselves. They hadn't even tried. He decided then that he wouldn't follow the Alienages guidelines, he wouldn't follow their teachings, or believe in the Maker, or any of the things they did. They were worthless shit. They just bowed down, dropped their trousers, and took it up the ass with no complaints. He was smart enough to know that not all humans were bad… but alienages existed all over the world. All elves were worthless scum._

_He carried on his mother's training in secret. Shianni did as well. Soris, after shaking away the initial fear of breaking rules due to what happened to Samael's mother, only did so because it was something fun to do._

_Shianni eventually gained enough courage to speak to Samael about Adaia's death one day, a few months after the tragedy. After coming to terms with it herself. Before that, they had ignored the topic when with each other. The event they both didn't want to broach was constantly hanging over them._

" _Samael" Shianni interrupted, gaining his attention. She looked at him sorrowfully. He was out weeding, cooking, or doing all the chores in the blistering heat ever since that 'talk' with his father and Valendrian. The Hahren and Cyrion constantly punished Samael for his angry outbursts or curses he threw. Samael had eventually learned to keep his mouth shut… but that didn't mean his resentment had disappeared as Valendrian, Cyrion, and even the rest of the elves foolishly assumed. "I… I wanted to speak to.. to you about… about…"_

_She looked down on the ground. She was unable to finish what she wanted to say._

" _Then talk." He replied stiffly, not wanting to speak of the topic but letting her get her feelings out. He continued trimming the outside weeds near his house. "I've got nothing to say about it."_

_Shianni looked back up at him. Giving herself a more clear view. The blistering heat was burning the poor kid's skin yet Cyrion still demanded he continue with his punishment for his insolence and disrespect._

" _Listen.. I… I know that you're angry… I'm angry too." Replied Shianni, letting her feelings out. "The humans… they-"_

_Samael cut her off right then and there. A habit he would keep with him for the rest of his natural life._

" _The humans aren't entirely to blame. There are good and bad humans. Accusing all of them of what four crazed guardsmen did isn't right."_

" _That may be… but…"_

_Shianni didn't really know what to say to that. Wasn't he angry at the humans? Didn't he hate them for what happened to his mother? Didn't he want revenge like she did? All humans were capable of such atrocities and they treated the elves like dirt, after all._

" _It's the elves that are really at fault."_

" _Wh-what!" shouted Shianni in surprise. What was Samael talking about? The elves hadn't done anything! It had been the humans who-_

" _Think about it." said Samael, cutting off her train of thought as he angrily threw the hedge clippers at the wall, leaving a rather ugly mark, before turning to face her eye-to-eye. "Yes, the humans who did that are sick scumbags. But when I cried for help, for anyone to help her, what did everyone in this place besides us try to do?"_

" _I… well…"_

" _The humans wouldn't have gone as far as they did had someone stood up and done something! Not even my father stopped them! He just watched as mother was raped by all four of those sickos! None of them… not even your parents tried to stop them when they started tearing your clothes off!"_

_Shianni started shaking her head in denial. She didn't want to listen to what Samael had to say. He was talking nonsense! The humans were at fault for everything! The Alienage hadn't done anything wrong!_

" _Yeah, humans – some humans – are fucking evil. But these people we live with? They're fucking retarded! They would let the humans get away with anything! If they had just stopped what happened then mom would still be alive and we wouldn't have been in any danger!"_

" _B-but.. NO! That… that would've just caused those humans to get angrier and send an army to kill us!"_

" _SO WHAT! Why the fuck does that matter? Which is better? Watching people you care about suffer or to die fighting for what should be a right! We all have the right to be free and happy. If someone takes it, we should fight for it! These people… they don't even try! Elves are nothing but cowards and uncaring monsters! They DON'T care! They make all these religious speeches and sermons about 'family' we've lost but that's BULLSHIT! We wouldn't have lost them had they simply stood up to our oppressors. They just pretend to care! They don't really try to stop the bad things that happen to one of us! They're the real monsters!"_

_SLAP_

_Shianni quickly ran away as Samael touched the stinging part of his cheek. From then on a rift would grow between them. Destroying the love they once shared for each other forever. Shianni would grow to hate and love Samael for who he was and had learned to hate humans after Adaia's death. She had never thought the punishments Cyrion and Valendrian dished out was fair to Samael but wouldn't agree with Samael's philosophy that elves were worthless. Samael would always hate every elf from then on. He would stop hating himself once he had become a Grey Warden and was allowed to carve out his own path in life after Duncan's death. Elves, however, he would never acknowledge as anything more than crap on the underfoot of his shoes due to their lack of respect for themselves._

_And when Samael had finally been unleashed, the world had truly felt his wrath._

* * *

"I thought we agreed that you wouldn't follow me?"

"Things have changed."

"Indeed, they have, I took care of what you were suppose to. You've proven to be quite incapable of doing anything but spread your seed around."

"Those were just spur of the moment, they mean nothing to me like you do. Besides, were you not the one who-"

"Let this not be an argument of who did what! I do not care for such chatter! You… you… argh! Why have you come here?"

"I came to help you. I've trained myself to be capable of withstanding even the strongest of magicks… but mostly for you. I can't live without you in my life. I realize that now. You're quite intoxicating."

"…"

"Let me be of use. Let me help you. I've made sure that I won't be a burden."

"…Very well. If it is as you say… then show me."

"As you wish."

* * *

"My, my, to have persisted so much…" spoke Flemeth, looking at the figure below her. "You've done quite a lot of damage, little elf."

"You're the last one… the real one..." gasped Merrill, exhausted from the skirmish she just endured. Matching Flemeth blow for blow was no easy task. "I… I managed to destroy all of them… all of your faux bodies... all by myself!"

"I swear on Hawke's grave that I'll make you pay!"

"Indeed, you've done quite an extensive amount of damage. I am almost killable now." Nodded Flemeth, acknowledging the young elf's perseverance. "But it was not I who killed your beloved Hawke. I wouldn't dream of murdering my own chosen. It was my daughter's-"

Merill cut her off mid-sentence.

"Hawke didn't want to live in a world where you used us as playthings. Despite his choice, I've respected his wishes and I WILL kill you to make sure his sacrifice wasn't in vain! You won't make a fool of me with your manipulative words!"

She gathered her mana and threw the most powerful ball of ice she could muster at Flemeth. Fire attacks had little effect as Flemeth was virtually impervious to them. Flemeth snorted and struck the ball of ice with a powerful arcane spell with just the flick of her finger. The ice ball burst into millions of shards of ice… and came straight for Flemeth. Flemeth simply stared dully. This attack wouldn't-

Her train of thought stopped as those ice shards began to cut her deeply wherever they struck true. Flemeth stared in morbid fascination at her own blood before glaring at Merrill. Merrill, though nearly spent in reserves, kept channeling mana through blood magic. Even her blood usage was being overcompensated. She truly would drain herself dry if she tried any more of those attacks.

"You… can _hurt_ me? You are capable of such a feat all on your own?" said Flemeth, staring at Merrill in true shock. A _mortal_ had gained such power _without_ the use of any special blood or extraneous powers like Samael and Morrigan? This elf had carved a path all on her own and done what no mortal, by themselves, should be capable of achieving.

What this mortal had just done was prove that she could _kill_ an Archdemon, perhaps even two, if given enough preparation and at full strength….

This couldn't be allowed to exist. It posed too much of a threat to her. Her faux bodies, while powerful, were limited to mortal standards. A mortal being with such an immense power that rivaled a god's without her interference in some way? It would not be allowed.

She began to play her tune and transformed into her true self from beyond the Fade. She turned into a magnificent beast that she truly was. It was a swift change. Merrill had no time to react as the mighty dragon swooped it's neck right above her and bit her head off.

Flemeth spat the head out of her maws and watched, eyes gleaming in laughter, as the body fell with a faint thud on the forest floor. She became distracted, however, as her attention turned to the oncoming visitor in the sky.

The purple giant watched as a black dragon only a few statures shorter than her form, swooped down rapidly, even faster than she could, and noticed something on the dragon's back.

Flemeth got ready for the battle that was upon her. Even in her weakened form, she would be a challenging opponent to kill. Her newly found weakness only made her a more dangerous animal.

"The time has come for you to die, mother!" yelled Morrigan, on the back of the black dragon. "Here and now, you shall perish and a new goddess shall reign over the world!"

The ultimate power play commenced.


End file.
